


flooded moonlight

by strawberricream



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Drugs, F/M, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, Guns, Minor Character Death, Pining, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberricream/pseuds/strawberricream
Summary: nicotine, heroine, amphetamines. any illicit drug, whether it be performance-enhancing or simply used to reach a new reality, matsukawa issei could get his hands on it. it’s almost too easy. no, itistoo easy.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	flooded moonlight

nicotine, heroine, amphetamines. any illicit drug, whether it be performance-enhancing or simply used to reach a new reality, matsukawa issei could get his hands on it. as one of the three right hand men to the oikawa family’s  _ wakagashira _ , he’d do anything to keep the family position where it is—you had to. 

it’s almost too easy. short on natural resources, japan relies heavily on international imports, making it an important hub for trading goods in asia. in turn, the country’s illegal drug trade flourishes. the government’s attempts to implement stricter drug laws in retaliation have only increased the demand. 

it  _ is _ too easy. matsukawa is a multimillionaire. a multi millionaire investor who’s poured an inexorable amount of money into local and international corporations, expanding his personal network beyond imagination and ensuring that other elites know to turn their cheek when necessary, less they want to lose out on one of japan’s most affluent. 

though to you, it’s unclear why he turned to a life of crime and got so heavily involved in it.

“boredom,” he told you. “capitalism gets tiring after a while.”

“so the law was next?” 

the corners of his mouth tick up to a smirk. “it’s all omnicide in the end anyways, princess.” he takes a drag of his cigar. 

you bite your tongue, wanting to roll your eyes at the somewhat typical answer coming from a person of his financial status. you wonder how much of it was destroying him. 

but that’s none of your business. and it’s not like you had the luxury of caring so much—you’re his human meat shield after all.

you originally worked for another division within the group, but word came out that the leader was skimming the profits his division made through money laundering. you were nothing but a lower ranked member, looked down upon for your smaller physique and for the fact that you were a female. 

luckily for the group, the division leader often enjoyed drinking himself silly as he laid in your lap and you, tired of a mere pillow, told the _wakagashira_ , tooru, that you’d be able to get evidence of the his illicit transactions. he agreed to working with you, on the condition that you’d figure out the routing numbers and end locations for the wire transfers _and_ be the one who killed him. the final demand is that matsukawa watches over you. 

you complete your job to a tee, but things end up in a bloody shootout. the division leader runs with you and one other surviving lackey in tow. you’re mostly unscathed, surprisingly, and just as the thought passes you, the lackey to your left falls limp with a blanket of bullets on his back. 

it was beautiful in a dark, poetic way. 

the two of you run into an empty warehouse, hiding behind a large crate. he runs his hands through his hair, eyes wild, muttering hysterically about how they figured it out, who told them and why the  _ fuck _ —.

men rush in and suddenly, he’s got a gun at your head, arm around your throat and you’re being dragged into the open.

matsukawa, all long legs and crisp thousand dollar three-piece suit, saunters in with another group of men behind him and eyes you unamusedly.

“fuck off, cocksuckers!” he yells, pointing the gun at the men in front of him. “back off—!”

in a split second, you grab the knife you have tucked into your side and cut his forearm, slicing through his tuxedo sleeve. he yells out in pain, other arm releasing you and you take the chance to throw the gun as you knock his lights out. you beat his face in, not giving him a millimeter’s leeway as your knuckles blossom blue, purple and bright, bright red. 

chest heaving, you grab the gun you flung to the slide and end it. the shot rings out in the dark satin of the night. opening his suit, you dig through his inside pocket and pull out a usb. 

giving your lungs another slice of air, you toss it over to matsukawa.

“the rest of the data should be there. if not, there’s a safe full of paperwork i can give you the combination to.”

it’s there—the numbers, the paperwork, the money. you did your job perfectly. 

“who knew we had a diamond in the rough in the midst of those nobodies?” oikawa chuckles condescendingly. “too bad you aren’t a man.”

you don’t say anything because you really can’t explain how you can’t change that. 

the room stays silent. 

oikawa waits for your nonexistent reply as you stand there in front of him with dozens of  _ kyodais _ and  _ shateis _ behind you—not to mention, hanamaki, matsukawa and iwaizumi are here. oikawa stares at your unmoving face. he blinks and the image of the shiratorizawa-gumi’s newest  _ wakagashira _ , ushijima wakatoshi, passes through his mind. he frowns. 

“well?”

you take a short breath. “oikawa-san, there isn’t anything i can do about me being a woman so, really, it’s your own fault you’re disappointed.”

the room goes quiet again. the  _ kyodais _ and  _ shateis _ all think you’re insane—a moron that signed her death sentence. 

so be it. there wasn’t really anything you had to lose; joining this group was a last resort anyway. 

hanamaki laughs out loud. iwaizumi chuckles to himself, bringing a hand up to hide his face. matsukawa crosses his legs with a look of amusement on his face.

“well, well, well, mattsun, looks like you got yourself an interesting one,” oikawa snickers, brushing off your comment. 

matsukawa laughs, the chuckles reverberating low in his chest. 

(“aren't you hilarious,” hanamaki had snorted, patting you on the shoulder.)

after the money laundering incident, you’re appointed as one of matsukawa’s personal bodyguards. complaints ran rampant, but they all clammed up when you managed to beat them at their own game. 

brutal fighting, flawless marksmanship, and your overall efficiency made you a machine. a machine matsukawa was willing to figure out both the hardware and software for. 

because, yeah, his call girls are pretty and have their own cute attitudes, but they can’t beat a guy’s face in with their bare hands the way you do and keep a neutral face on seeing the results. you, with your cold front and seemingly detached, almost naive personality; you, with the way you comply to his demands and focus your entire being on him; you, with the way you shield him and put yourself in front of him even though he’s bigger than you; you, who follows every command he has for you with a quick nod and bright, almost puppy dog eyes. 

though he knows you’re just doing as you should, matsukawa can’t help but be interested in you. 

“matsukawa-san, i’ll leave your change of clothes on the bed.”

water trickles down his bare chest as he towel dries his hair sloppily. he steps out of the bathroom, towel low on his hips as he sees you place a bag on the comforter of the hotel bed. 

you steel yourself to look at him. matsukawa is art; the ink etched in his skin, simple piercings in his ears and irresistible musculature and definition of his body would make the gods cry foul. 

“iwaizumi-san left a message for you earlier. your phone’s on the mahogany desk.” with a short nod, you leave the room. 

matsukawa’s the tiniest disappointed you aren’t reacting the way he wants you to, but no biggie, he’s working on it. he’s tried to get a rouse out of you: whispering in your ear, pulling you into his lap, holding your hand, and you reacted cutely, endearingly so, but it also pushed you further away in embarrassment. you aren’t a fan of his teasing remarks either, pouting and refusing to look at him and he’d rather see your pretty face so he’s laid off it since. but you react nicely,  _ very nicely _ to praise. you still get shy, but there’s a small glimmer in your eye as you look up at him and nod cutely at his words. he uses it sparingly, wanting to preserve your endearing reactions. 

in a way, he likes the relationship you have now. your loyalty came easy—more blind trust at the beginning, but now there’s less thorns. you like being in the know and you like how matsukawa keeps you there with him, taking the time to explain details of plans and contracts with you. he’s definitely hiding things from you, cherry picking what he says, but you don’t mind, not with the way he treats you. 

he asks about how you’re doing, buys you expensive sweets and gives you gifts from time to time. more importantly, he doesn’t seem to look down on you, letting you stand by his side and even taking pride in your work. 

the first time you met with a sub-group’s leader by his side, the leader had flicked his head at you, an overconfident sneer on his face as he asked, “and which brothel did this pretty girlie come from?” 

his sleazy gaze passes over you, lingering on your exposed skin from your dress. 

“this one?” matsukawa turns over slightly in his leather chair, eyeing the way your jaw clenched. he puts his hand under yours, pulling you forward and into his lap. the man in front laughs crudely at how you tense up. 

matsukawa places a hand on your knee, rubbing at the soft skin there with his thumb. he knows you’re uncomfortable, didn’t want to walk in barely covered in a skimpy dress as happy as he was to see you in it. a hand on your waist has you leaning into his chest and you can feel your cheeks warming at the intimacy of it. the hand around you pushes your torso into his, letting you turn your exposed chest away from the man across you. 

“is she the new girl everyone’s been talking about? she must make it  _ easy _ .” 

you swallow thickly, biting your tongue when you feel his lips press a soft kiss to your temple, speaking lowly against the skin there. 

“there’s a revolver on my side, sweetheart.”

your eyes widen, looking up at him. 

“matsukawa-san," the man loudly drawls through a swallow of wine. “what’s the business today? i’ve got ‘nother shipment coming in today. time is money: i’m sure someone like you knows!” he laughs loudly. 

matsukawa hums, more focused on the feeling of your skin underneath his palm. “just scare him,” he whispers lowly. he pulls you close, bringing his cigarette to his lips. 

“time is money?” he looks back to the man. “if your time is money, then your profits wouldn’t have dropped.”

the man laughs, obnoxiously, unnaturally. “matsukawa-san, it’ll be fine! it’ll be worth more in the long run. heck, i’ll hit a new record, you’ll see!”

matsukawa takes another drag, looking at him unimpressed, but hums. he moves to stand, so you get off him. 

“matsukawa-dono?”

“i guess time  _ is _ money, if you look at it that way.” he looks over at you, raising a brow. 

the man laughs even more loudly. “i knew you’d understand matsukawa-san! don’t worry about—.” 

your shot rings through the room. the suited men around you freeze. the burnt edge of the man’s cigarette flies off the man’s fingers onto the leather seat, burning a hole through it. he glares up at you, but matsukawa steps in front. 

“but my time is worth more than money—,”

you angle the gun at the man’s head and matsukawa has to keep himself from grinning.

“so let’s not waste it, yeah?”


End file.
